Truth in Dreams
by QueenOfHearts3
Summary: *c7* Hogsmead, an unexpected meeting, and Malfoy knows... H/G, R/Hr
1. A New Year, A New Beginning?

QoH: This is my first HP fic, so I'd love to know what you all think! Oh, and this will probably be just a harmless bit of fluff, though I'm not sure, as I haven't written all of it yet.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, more's the pity. ^_~ He, and the rest of his marvelous world, belong to the utterly _brilliant _J.K. Rowling. I only own all 4 books in the series (^_^ I plan 2 get em all, o'course, if I can manage it…) and the 1st movie. I saw the 2nd one recently while visitin with a friend and it _ruled_! Actually, certain scenes had something to do with the inspiration 4 this in the 1st place… Oh, yes, and before I forget… any certain songs I use in here a strictly the property of their respective owners (duh. Wonder what gave everybody _that_ idea…) Besides, it wouldn't do any good to sue me, since I'm broke. Sad how so many fanfic writers r able 2 use this excuse, isn't it…

Truth in Dreams 

_Chatper 1: A New Year, A New Beginning?_

_Ginny's POV_

                As I stand before Platform 9 ¾,  I can't help but feel a twinge of fear. I really don't know what's going to happen this, my fourth, year. With everything that's happened since the Tri-Wizard Tournament, everyone's been on edge, expecting attacks everywhere they went. Of course, for the most part, they were right. The Death Eaters are definitely showing their disappointment at not being able to kill Harry. Fortunately, the Ministry's been able to help protect everyone from the most serious, at least, so far.

                Harry. My eyes shift to him as he quietly waits beside me, Ron and Hermione. Ever since his duel with Voldemort last year, he's been withdrawn, melancholy. I know he still blames himself for Cedric Diggory's death, even when we all tell him he had no way to stop it.

                He stayed at the Dursley's for the majority of the summer, until Professor Dumbledore said it was all right for him to come and stay with us, only a week and a half ago. As we take our turns going through the portal, I keep wondering whether we really helped him, or not. On the one hand, living with those horrid relations of his, especially in such a difficult time, certainly couldn't be good for him. He has no one there who cares about him at all, no one to listen to him, even for the briefest amount of time. On the other, when he's with us, the everyday magic seems to remind him of the whole thing.

                Noticing this, Mum started making us do our chores and everything the muggle way. The only one who had _any fun in this, of course, was Dad. He was really in heaven when he tried doing the dishes by hand, even when he broke some of them. To his dismay, though, it last very long. Harry, seeing our "difficulties," told Mum that he didn't want us all going out of our way to avoid the subject, since he'd have to be dealing with it full-time soon enough, anyway. Mum tried to convince him otherwise, but Harry was insistent. He said he didn't want to be a burden to us. Fred and George showed their appreciation by giving him a canary creme hidden in a chocolate eclair. Harry molting feathers over dinner certainly lightened the mood. Harry even laughed then, a rare occasion these days._

                How could he _ever be a "burden," I'd like to know? He arrived at the same time as  Hermione, and they were quite helpful while we had to do everything without magic. She really has an _uncanny_ sense of being where she's needed at the precise moment, that girl. My thoughts drift back to that night as we find an empty compartment near the end of the train. Hermione, Ron, Harry and myself had all stayed up late, and finally __really talked about it all. We all sat in the dark of Ron's room, but even in those shadows, the pain on his face was glaringly obivious. As the three of us listened to him tell about his confrontation with Voldemort, all I wanted to do was hug him. Either that, or blast Voldemort to unrecognizable bits._

                Yeah, I guess you could say I still have a crush on him. Since the whole "Chamber" thing, though, I really haven't had the courage to talk with him beyond the "friendship" level, namely because I'm afraid of what he'd say. As it was, I just sat beside him in silence, only putting in the occasional comment or question. Ron kept glancing at me, curious about my lack of speech. I think he knows I still have feelings for Harry. I really hope he doesn't say anything.

                Though, frankly, I believe he's got problems of his own on this front. I have to smile as I watch the sparks fly between my brother and Hermione as they chat next to us. I don't think either one knows how the other feels, or even _themselves, really. For the entire week and a half Hermione and Harry stayed with us, whenever Hermione talked about that Viktor Krum guy, Ron would get this rather dark scowl on his face and not talk for a while, except maybe to snap at somebody. It has it's good points, though. More than anything else, it seems to bring Harry back to normal. He and I usually end up being mediators for the two. Hermione might have more of a clue to what's going on than my big brother does, which I find quite amusing. Sometimes, she brings up Krum, just see what Ron does. She doesn't say that's why she does this, but I can tell from the look in her eyes. But then, __she gets miffed when Ron drools over that veela-girl, Fleur Delacour, even when he knows he doesn't have a snowball's chance in a volcano with her._

                It's kind of weird how life has changed recently. I can even say Voldemort's name without flinching now. After everything he's put Harry through, I don't want to give that walking skeleton the satisfaction that he's so _feared_. I won't quake in terror at the mere mention of what Tom Riddle, former Head Boy, has turned himself into. He doesn't deserve it.

_~All my life  
  is changing every day,  
  in every possible way.~_

QoH: So? *waits on pins and needles* What do you all think? *listens 2 the e-crickets* Rats...


	2. The Anouncement

QoH: Yep ^_^ I'm back. I think we'll look in on Harry's thoughts in this one… ^_~

_Chapter 2: The Announcement_

Harry's POV 

                I half-listen to Ron chattering away as we put our things away in the dorm room, something about Fred and George pulling some prank or another on the train. I know he's trying to keep the conversation light for my sake, and as much as I appreciate it, I just can't seem to focus on what he's saying.

                Though I wish it wouldn't, my mind keeps insisting on going back to the Tri-Wizard Tournament, like a bad record intent on playing one very dark song over and over in my head. When I was at the Dursley's, I thought I was going insane from all the nightmares, and no one to talk to about them. Being the typical set of annoyances I've known for most of my life, they didn't give a care that I seemed in the least bit different. The first day I was back with them, they tried to tell me not to send any letters to my friends, saying that the neighbors were "asking questions" about Hedwig flying in and out of my room. I had to grit my teeth so they wouldn't find themselves on the wrong end of my wand.

                I just smiled politely and ask them if they'd forgotten about Sirius, my "convict" godfather. Uncle Vernon, who'd been doing the talking at the time, had evidently gained some guts over the past year. He'd looked around in a big show, then asked in a taunting voice, "Well, he's not here _now_, is he? You can't use the 'if I ask him to, he will be' thing, because you said he's on the run from the law, isn't that right? He wouldn't dare show his face in public, I bet."

                I'd just raised my eyebrow and reminded him that Sirius had broken out of the most feared wizard prison in the world. Did he really think a little thing like a few nosy neighbors would stop him from coming, if he really wanted to? Apparently, Uncle Vernon hadn't thought of that, and he kind lost his voice. It had made for an amusing sight to see him acting like a fish out of water. Aunt Petunia and Dudley had just stared back and forth between the two of us, also at a loss for words.

                "Oy, Harry!" I look up when pillow hits the back of my head. Ron is standing in the doorway, looking impatient, "Are you coming to the feast, or what? Come on, everybody's left already, and I'm hungry!"

                I laugh and close my trunk, joining him, "When _aren't_ you, Ron?"

                He pulls a face, staggering backward, "Aw, that was _cold_, Harry! I'm hurt!"

                "Uh huh," I grin and ruffle his hair, "I think you'll recover, especially when you see the food."

                "There you go again." Ron scowls at me, then grins, too, "All right, come on, then slowpoke. If we don't get down there soon, all of it will be gone, most likely courtesy of Fred and George, the human garbage disposals."

_****_

                Professor Dumbledore stands to make his customary speech after the Sorting, smiling out over the crowd, "Welcome to yet another year of cramming our brains full of things we'd forgotten over the little break. I do hope it won't be too difficult to remember it all," his eyes twinkle, noticing the unsure expressions on a few faces, "I know you'll all do just fine."

                His gaze turns serious, glancing at me for the briefest moment, and I know what he's going to bring up, "As I'm sure all of you are aware, Voldemort has made his power felt over the entirety of the wizarding world. In light of these recent events," the headmaster looks at his staff, then back to the students, "we've decided that something light-hearted is in order."

                An interested murmur winds itself through the crowd, speculating on what it could be. Dumbledore waits for this to die down before speaking again, "It's been agreed that a dance, one open to all years, could be just the thing to get everyone into the right spirit. It will be held on October 31st, from six in the evening to midnight, as a combination of celebrating Halloween and a Welcome-Back party. Dress robes are to be worn, and if you don't have any now, Hogsmead will be open to all years on certain days so that can be remedied. Seeing as how it is far enough away, I trust everyone will be ready by that time. Now, with that said, I believe it's time to dig in!"

                I gape at Dumbledore as food appears on the platters in front of us. Did I just hear what I think I heard? I look at Ron, who has a similar expression. I sit back and wonder how on earth I'm going to be able to get through running the "girl gauntlet" again. The _last_ one had certainly been an unqualified disaster. I want to sink into the floor at the memory of _that_.

                "Well, maybe we can sneak by without dates this year." I mutter to Ron, who seems relieved that I mention this.

                "You're right," he smiles, leaning toward me, "I wouldn't want to go through _that_ whole thing again. It's _way_ to embarrassing. D'ya think Mum will send me a bit of money for new robes? I'd rather not be seen in that maroon travesty, if I can possibly help it."

                I shrug, "If she doesn't, I'll lend you some," seeing his protesting look, I add, just a bit teasingly, "Hey, I said 'lend,' didn't I? If it ends up being that way, I expect I'll be getting your allowance for the next few months."

                "Oh, you're funny," he makes a face at me and starts piling assorted things on his plate.

                "I think it's very nice of Harry to do that for you, Ron," Hermione says loftily from my other side, "You should say thank you for the offer, at least."

                I shake my head and begin eating, while the newest little squabble goes back and forth on either side of me. A snort of amusement across the table makes me raise my eyes from my mashed potatoes. Ginny's eyes are glittering with held-in mirth, looking like she's about to crack a rib. I flash a smile at her, rolling my eyes in a "can you believe these two" message. She grins at me, returning with a "pitiful, aren't they" wink, then turns her attention back to her plate. I study her for a few seconds, astounded that this beautiful young woman is the same timid girl I managed to rescue from the Chamber of Secrets. I drop my gaze back to my food before she notices my undue attention. 

                Ginny's really been amazing ever since came to stay with her family over the last part of summer. She was the quiet support, a silent strength I needed, just as much as I needed Ron staunch, and sometimes hot-tempered, approach to things, or Hermione's logical, thoughtful one. I'm glad we've grown closer now.

                I'm still thinking of her as I climb into bed, pulling the hangings shut. I close my eyes and find an image of Ginny, her flame-colored hair falling about her smiling face. I groan and roll over, resting my chin on my arms. This is foolish, I tell myself sternly, it's not as though she still has a crush on me, like when we first met, so what's the point?

                'Are you _sure_?' a voice whispers in my heart, 'Perhaps she's just learned to keep her true emotions inside, like you.'

                "Yeah, right," I mutter into my pillow, "Why would she do that?"

                'She has no idea what you'd say, and probably doesn't want to get hurt, you great prat.'

                That's possible I suppose, but why is it that I feel this way now, after knowing her for just about five years? That's the big question. Well, whatever's going on, it looks like I'm in for a very long night.

_~Dreams..._

_  within the still of night,  
  on wings of hope take flight_

_  inside of me.~_

QoH: *grins* Aw, poor Harry's confused. *shrugs* Don't worry, he'll figure it out… eventually. ^_~ Please review!


	3. Musings Of The Heart

QoH: And, obviously, we're switchin back to Ginny. lol

_Chapter 3: Musings Of The Heart_

Ginny's POV 

                A week after Professor Dumbledore's rather surprising announcement, I'm still wondering what the heck I'm going to do about it. I've never been to anything like this before. What if I make an utter fool out of myself? I don't even know how to _dance, for pity's sake! Not to mention that I don't have any robes to wear. I really don't want to beg Mum for the money to buy them, especially with Ron already having sent his letter with Pigwidgeon to ask her for himself._

                The idea of just skipping it all together crosses my mind for, what seems like, the millionth time. Honestly, even _if_ (and that's a huge "if") I somehow managed to pull off getting my hands on some _and learned how to dance, there's still that thorny problem of finding myself a date._

                Who'd take me, after all? Sure, I'd love to go with Harry, but that's about as likely to happen as… Oh, I don't know, Voldemort conducting a charity fair for Muggles in Afghanistan. I smirk ironically to myself as I sit by the lake, watching the giant squid propel itself lazily back and forth across it. Like _that'd ever happen. Anyway, going with anyone else just seems weird. True, I've grown up a bit, but I'm still shy. I don't know many people that well, not like I know Harry and Hermione._

                The odd thought skitters through my brain that Harry might be having this same dilemma. Then I smack myself on the forehead, feeling extraordinarily stupid. He may be shy, but I'd bet he wouldn't even _need_ to ask anyone. I remember what it was like for him before the Yule Ball, being asked by girls he'd never even _met_. He's The-Boy-Who-Lived; of _course_ they'd be falling all over themselves to ask him. Like I said, an odd thought.

                I scowl as I remember just who he _did_ want to go with. That Cho Chang girl. I don't know her in the least, and she _does seem nice from what I hear, but it doesn't stop me from being a little jealous. Ok, I admit it, a _lot_ jealous. Seriously, she's a great Seeker, she's incredibly pretty, __and she's got the best guy in the world daydreaming about her! Not that she has a _clue_, of course (at least, I don't _think_ so). I wonder if she would care if she did._

                'Much like _your current situation, is it not?'_

                Oh, joy. The voice is back. The hateful little thing's been taunting me ever since I found out about this. I thought I could get rid of it by concentrating extra-hard on my schoolwork, but it takes the opportunity to bug me every time I take a rest. It kind of reminds me of Peeves, how it persistently pokes at my attention with its taunting remarks. One thing I _will_ say in its favor, however, is that it _does_ demonstrate a sort of intelligence, unlike a certain poltergeist we all know and immensely loathe. But then, that's the _really_ irritating part about the whole thing. It always seems to be right.

I suppose it wouldn't hurt to go and check out Hogsmead, though, even if I'm only window-shopping. Maybe a miracle will happen and they'll have a sale with something in my size and price range. Highly doubtful, but at least I can say I tried.

                The bell rings, signaling the end of the break, so I stand up and brush myself off. It's time for Potions, with that creepy, attitude-riddled-with-more-animosity-than-swiss-cheese-has-holes Professor Snape. What fun.

_****_

                Several hours later, classes are over, and I'm stuck in the back of the library, researching a horrendously complicated essay for, you guessed it, Professor Snape. Something about Veritaserum, that truth potion he seems to be so fond of. We were making it in class today, or _trying_ to, anyway. I swear, that man needs courses in anger management. Some in kindness wouldn't hurt, either, while he's at it. 

Cassie Williams, one of my roommates, had some trouble getting her proportions right. It ended up melting her cauldron and spilling the ingredients all over the floor. Snape seemed to be of the mind that this was inexcusable, and yelled at her for a good five minutes over this, that and the other. _And_, if that wasn't bad enough, he took twenty points from Gryffindor, gave her detention (cleaning the dungeon floors for an entire night, the muggle way), and gave everyone this idiotic essay, to be turned in only two days from now. Who spit in _his_ cereal this morning? Or _any morning, for that matter?_

                Cassie, poor girl, ran crying out of the room as soon as he moved away to bully some other unfortunate Gryffindor soul. The Slytherins we shared the class with, of course, thought this was all a riot, and cracked up in malicious laughter. Snape, being the jerk he is, played favorites yet again, and allowed them to continue. The rest of us Gryffindors just had to grit our teeth and keep a forced silence. As much as we would've loved to strike back, we didn't want even more punishment to be dealt out.

                I look up when I hear the door open, wondering who else had the unlucky task of finishing homework at this hour. To my amazement, Harry comes strolling into view from around a bookshelf, "What are you doing here, Harry?"

                He smiles at me and sits down across the table, "I heard about what happened in Potions. Is your friend all right?"

                I shake my head, "As far as I know, she won't talk to anybody. But then, that was a couple hours ago." I sit back and throw my homework a dirty look, "I don't know her very well, quiet as she is, but from what I can tell, especially after today, Cassie's a very sensitive person, and a perfectionist. She'll brood over things when she doesn't think she did them right."

                Harry nods, frowning, "Not the best combination, particularly when one is in Snape's presence."

                "Yeah, she's Muggle-born, and tends to think she's not good enough with magic."

                He grimaces in sympathy now, "Ouch. I certainly wouldn't like to be her, trapped with Snape and a bunch of Slytherins. Not with the way _that_ lot thinks."

                "No kidding." I mutter and look at the moon through the panes of the narrow window beside me.

                "Hey." I turn, and there he is, mere inches away from my face, "Don't worry about it. I'm sure she'll be fine, especially after you cheer her up." Then, without warning, he kisses me, as softly and briefly as a butterfly's wing. After a moment, he pulls back, and gives me that quiet, enigmatic smile of his. My heart pounds as I stare back into those pure emerald pools of mystery...

                I twitch back into wakefulness, my cheek resting against that accursed essay. Not opening my eyes, I groan when I realize that I'd fallen asleep. What I'd thought was my heart had actually been someone knocking on the table at which I've been for God knows how long. As I'm still half asleep, it takes me a minute to put things together enough to look up for the source of the noise.

                Early-morning sunlight streams over the _real_ Harry as he stands in front me, looking a bit nonplused.

_~In all my dreams,  
  it's never quite as it seems.  
  Never quite as it seems.~_

QoH: hehe Had ya goin there for a sec, didn't I? Please review! (I'm sooo sorry about the late update! We had a wickedly evil ice storm here, and everythin was down 4 more than a week! The sad thing is, I already had this written, and was plannin 2 update it when the storm hit… -_-' geez…


	4. Sleeping Beauty

QoH: Luckily, everything is back to normal after the officially _Crummy weather that hit recently. A mess of ice and snow all the over place, not to mention rain, sleet, hail, etc… -_-' Definitely __not a lot of fun sitting in your house with absolutely nothing to do (especially after dark), with no heat or __anything. I was one of the fortunate ones who got their power back fairly early, but that didn't help with the library situation… Anyway, I'm glad to be back on track now! ^_^_

_Chapter 4: Sleeping Beauty_

_Harry's POV_

                When I heard about the fiasco in the dungeons yesterday, I couldn't help but wince. Being the target of Snape's unadulterated wrath on multiple occasions, I could just picture the scene down there. So, after a bit of deliberation as to who would do what, the three of us decided to pitch in and do our part to help. While we helped some fourth-years with that essay, Hermione went to calm down that poor Cassie girl. Since she's also from a muggle family, as well as a stickler for details and such, she figured she was the best choice. She'd said she would be eating breakfast with her this morning, after she'd come back. I knew they'd hit it off well.

Truth be told, she probably has a point. I wonder sometimes at how she takes the constant harassment she receives for being so bright. It's a wonder the only time I've ever known her to cry was that time during Halloween in our first year. That wasn't quite Ron's "shining moment," so to speak, but I'm glad he realized his mistake later. Still, most likely, it wasn't to the extent she would prefer. He and Hermione affect each other more than they know, or care to admit, I think.

                Speaking of Ron, he and I are currently turning the castle upside-down for Ginny, he taking the east while I have the west. Being a typically overprotective big brother, he worried how she was doing when the rumors had started flying. He began pacing after noticing she hadn't come back from wherever it was she'd ended up last night. By the start of breakfast this morning, he was near to tearing his hair out. But, to be totally honest, I wasn't exactly what anyone would call "calm" by that time, either. 

                All right, so I was a nervous wreck. So sue me. Can you really blame me, though? When people go missing, even here at Hogwarts, it's usually not for a good reason, particularly when they're close me. Anything, and I do mean _anything_, could've happened to her, and that scares me, a lot more than I'm willing to think about at this moment. I managed to maintain my outer facade only by the fact that the moment any "Voldemort trouble" was spotted, that everybody would know immediately. Since that hasn't happened, I force myself to think positively. For all I know, she could've just fallen asleep in the library (the only reason I think of this is because I'm passing by it), like I've done a few times before.

                The realization bursts over me like an exploding star and I shake my head, marveling at my denseness. Of _course! She's got to be in the __library, researching that moronic paper Snape gave her! Why didn't I see it before? I start to go for Ron immediately, but something holds me back. What if she's not in there at all? I should probably check, before getting his hopes up._

                'You sure have a lot of excuses you keep fooling yourself with. Do you stockpile them, so you don't use the same one twice in a row? Why don't you just _admit_ it, already?'

                'Shut up,' I tell the snide little thing. 'I don't have time for you right now, or _any time for you, in fact, so why don't you just leave me alone?' If it makes a response, I don't really know or care, since I'm making a conscious effort to block it out as I pull open the heavy doors and step through. The eternally musty smell of the room assaults me as soon I do, but I'm used to it by now. Walking among the bookshelves, with no sign of her, I begin to wonder if my hunch was wrong. Maybe she'd just checked out what she'd needed, and is up in her dormitory as I stand here like an idiot._

                Pondering other possibilities of her whereabouts, I start to head for the door, but stop when I hear the barest whisper of sound from somewhere off to my left. Curious as to what it was, I follow my ear to the back of the library to a little secluded area I hadn't previously noticed. For a moment, I wondered whether the castle was having fun at my expense again, since it'd been known to spontaneously change and put me somewhere that tended to be the exact _opposite_ of where I'd wanted to be in the first place, and other various little tricks. How Dumbledore is always so calmly amused by the whole affair is beyond me, but then, he _has_ been here for an untold amount of time. I swear, this place is as eccentric as _he is._

                I'm abruptly plucked out of my wool-gathering when I find myself in front of a small table, Ginny peacefully asleep over it. She's exhausted, judging by the faint circles under her eyes. With the light from the window beside her and the old-book dust around us, the feeling of the moment is almost ethereal. Come to think of it, it's not unlike that golden mist I'd had to fight in the maze of the third task. Everything has just that sort of atmosphere, and it's as though I'm suddenly upside down, rooted to the ceiling. There's something different about it this time, however. I'm not in the least afraid; it's more like awe, really. Not so much of our surroundings as _her_. Ginny...

_~Oh…~_

                Her hair falls across her face like she'd just dropped her head down, unaware that she'd even gone to sleep at all. She still holds a battered quill in her hand, though it seems like it might fall at any moment. Worn as she obviously is, she looks so _real, and yet so fantastic, I almost feel that if I might stretch out my hand to brush her cheek, as I'm tempted to do, she'd disappear in a fluttering of fairy dust._

                I'm not quite sure if that thought makes sense, but it seems to reflect my conflicting emotions. I drag my eyes away from her, searching for what had made the noise I'd heard. I laugh silently as I notice a small puddle of fabric beside her chair. Evidently, she'd hung her cloak on the back of it, and it had fallen off at just the right moment. I wonder if this was coincidence. Knowing this place, probably not. Oi, a match-making castle, is there anything worse? Er, don't answer that.

                My attention drifts back to Ginny and my eyes soften, watching her smile as she dreams. Glancing at the wizarding world's version of a clock overhead, I debate with myself on whether I should wake her or not. Her classes, according to Ron, should be starting fairly soon, but I hate to disturb her, especially when it seems like she could use the sleep.

                My decision is made for me as the pealing of the bell nearly startles me out of my skin. But, then again, Ginny doesn't move in the slightest. How is it possible that she didn't hear that? She must _really_ be knocked out. Plainly, she was only asleep now because her body had demanded it, not because it was her idea. Annoyance fills me as I think about the reason she's here in the first place. What's Snape's _problem_, anyway? Why does he find it necessary to be such a blasted scuz-bucket to everyone but his own house? If you ask me, ordering your students to complete a five-scroll report in two days is beyond comprehension. But, hey, who listens to me? Certainly not _him_, that's for sure.

                Since I don't want her to get in trouble with whatever teacher she's got next, I make up my mind and tap lightly on the table with my knuckles, close to her ear. Hopefully, the vibrations or something will rouse her. She stirs a little, but doesn't seem intent on coming out of Dreamland, so I try again. This seems have a bit more of an effect; she jerks a bit and makes a little irritated sound. Hearing that, I'd guess she's figured out she fell asleep.

                When she finally opens her eyes and blinks sleepily up at me, I smile and raise my eyebrow a notch or two good-naturedly, "Hey, Sleeping Beauty." Wait a minute! Did I just say that _out _loud_?! "World War Three couldn't wake _you_ up, huh?" _

                She sits up and rubs her eyes, sighing groggily, "What time is it?"

                "Well, the first bell just rang." I reply, hitching my bag over my shoulder.

                "Oh, my God! I'm going to be _so late!" Ginny's eyes widen in panic as she scrambles to collect her things, "I've got Charms next, and it's _way_ too far to make it on time now!"_

                I help her stuff her homework back in her backpack, muttering a spell under my breath to make it feather-light. When she finishes, we stand up and I push her gently toward the door, "You'll make it. Just hurry."

                "What about you?" Ginny looks back at me, "Aren't you going to be late, too?"

                I shake my head, smiling, "Don't worry about me; just get going." She turns and runs as fast as she could out the doorway, and I remain where I am for a moment before coming to my senses and dragging out the Marauder's Map. Thankfully, there was a passage I could use nearby that would bring me by the Divination tower. Tucking it back in my robes, I head for the second suit of armor across from the library.

QoH: Hm. Longer than I expected, but that's all right ^_^ As usual, please review!


	5. Nothing Everything

QoH: ^_^ Switcharoo! Hehe *sees people fall over at the bad joke* ok, yeah, you're right, that was lame… -_-'

_Chapter 5: Nothing. Everything_

Ginny's POV 

                What a relief! It's a good thing Professor Flitwick's so nice; I really don't know _what I would've done otherwise. Much to my surprise, he just gave me a warning not to let it happen again. Besides, I was only a couple minutes late, so I think that might have had a bit of an impact. The funny thing is, I was able to get to Transfiguration quicker than usual, too. I have a sneaking suspicion Harry did some sort of spell to help me out somehow. I'll have to ask him about that when I see him again. _

                "Ginny, is that you?" a voice calls out behind me, and I turn around to see Hermione jogging up to me, loaded down as usual with her heavy amount of schoolwork.

                "Hi, Hermione." I reply, smiling and eyeing the bag, "Isn't that thing just a little wearing on the back?"

                "Yeah, but you get used to it," she shrugs, adjusting the weight a little, "So, where did you end up last night?"

                "The library," I sigh, rubbing my neck as we start walking toward the Great Hall, "I _still_ have a cramp from that."

She nods, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, "I thought as much. I didn't say anything because I found it far too amusing imagining them running all over the castle. I knew they'd figure it out soon enough, anyway," she blinks as though a thought had just struck her, and she frowns, "My little bit of fun didn't get you in trouble, did it?"

                "Oh, no, it's fine. I was barely even late, to begin with," I smile and shake my head, digging around my bag for my after-lunch schedule, "Harry found me before it was _that_ bad." The silence on her part causes me raise my head inquiringly, "What?"

                Hermione's peering at me very intently, a vague smile on her face, "You really do like him, don't you?" It was more of a statement than a question, as though she'd known the answer for a long time.

                "Well…" I grin sheepishly, feeling a blush flame across my cheeks, "Yeah, all right, I do. No secrets from you, huh?"

                "Of course not," she agrees, laughing as she pulls open the huge doors, "So, what are you going to do about it?"

                "What _can_ I do?" I scowl in frustration, lowering my voice as we walk through the noisy Hall, "How am I supposed to say anything at all, when he probably _already_ has a date? Even if he didn't, how could I ask _him_?"

                "First things first," she glances around quickly, then tugs me toward the wall, where it was less crowded, "I know for a fact that he doesn't have a date, nor has he asked anyone. In fact, whenever someone brings up the subject, he looks distinctly uncomfortable and tries to ignore it. I think he may have a girl in mind that he'd like to ask, but he's too shy."

                "Peachy," I study the floor morosely, "It's probably Cho Chang again."

                She shakes her head thoughtfully, "No, I don't think so. If you'll think back, he hasn't mentioned her in the least in these past few months, except maybe when it's related to Quidditch."

                "So? What does that prove?" I rest my head wearily back against the wall, folding my arms.

                "Nothing. Everything." Hermione gives me another of those patented "Mona Lisa" smiles of hers and leads me back to the still half-empty Gryffindor table.

                "Just what is that supposed to mean?" I ask, exasperated, "Remember, you have to cut it down for us 'non-genius' folk."

                "It means, Cinderella, that I'm going to be your fairy godmother."

                I blink, mildly confused, "Come again?"

                She laughs again, sitting down, "It's a muggle fairytale. It's about a girl who wants to go to a ball, but doesn't think there's any chance of it ever happening, since she's 'common,' so to speak. The thing of it is, she's not actually poor or anything at all. That was only her stepmother and stepsisters making her think that by making her do all sorts of demeaning 'servant' chores. Then, that night, while her 'family' is at the ball a fairy basically transforms her entire life with a couple waves of her wand." Hermione stops when she sees my slightly disbelieving expression, "Well, that's according to the Disney version, anyway. It's not my favorite, as they seem to make it all far too easy. I much prefer _Ever After_ or Roger's and Hammerstein's latest version."

                "Would you mind saying something I can understand? I didn't get anything of that past 'wand.' How is this supposed to help me, anyway?" I wonder, staring at her, thoroughly baffled by now.

                "Never mind," she shakes her head, smiling as she ladles chicken soup into her bowl, "It would take far too long to explain. Your family life couldn't be more different than Cinderella's, considering all the people who love you, but your financial situation _could_ use some help, if you don't mind my saying."

                I shrug, putting a biscuit on my plate, "There's no need to be so politically correct about it, Hermione. We're poor."

She waves that away, "Even so, that shouldn't stop you from going, if you really want to. Which is why I'm offering to take you on a shopping spree this coming Friday afternoon. I'm going to get new robes with the boatload of money I have saved from my birthday, and I thought I'd ask you if you'd like to come along."

                "Oh, I couldn't put you out like that! Those things cost a _fortune_!" I cry, my fork stopping halfway before my mouth.

                "Hey, I need to spend the majority of it before I get materialistic, and what better way to do that than a girls' day out?"

                "You? Materialistic?" I snort, amused, "Yeah, and next you'll tell me you're going to stop studying."

                "Perish the thought!" Hermione grins, then looks around, "Hm. I wonder where Ron and Harry are."

                "No idea. I would've thought they'd be with you."

                "They were acting a bit secretive during History of Magic, but I didn't really think that much of it until they disappeared while we were on our way here. That's when I met up with you."

QoH: Wow, this is gettin a bit more complicated 2 write out, what with the timeline and all… ^_^ cool. That makes it more fun! Neways, check this out, u guys! I got this from Amazon.com, where they're sellin copies in advance!

_Excerpt from Harry Potter And The Order Phoenix_

Dumbledore lowered his hands and surveyed Harry through his half-moon glasses. "It is time," he said, "for me to tell you what I should have told you five years ago, Harry. Please sit down. I am going to tell you everything." 

How cool is that?! I sooo wanna read that…


	6. Helping A Friend

QoH: o_O I'm sooo sorry I haven't updated in a while! My life is kinda hectic right now, and I don't have too much time 2 write… _ Hopefully, it'll calm down soon…

_Chapter 6: Helping A Friend_

                "Welcome, children," whispers the misty voice of Professor Trelawney through the perpetual, mind-numbing fog of her circular room, "We will be starting weekly horoscopes today, using the skills you've learned previously, so you will all need to find a partner to practice with. This will be done every week at this time for the next few months as a in-class assignment."

                "Oh, great." I groan to myself as Ron and I choose our usual table, almost hidden in the shadows at the back of the class.

                "What, you've got something against horoscopes?" He grins and pokes me in the side as we sit down.

                I grimace and start digging around in my bag for my book, keeping my voice carefully low, "What can I say? I just find her always staring at me like she expects me to keel over at any second very off-putting. Is any one person really _that unlucky?"_

                "Or _lucky, as the case may be." Ron laughs, raising his eyebrows in unspoken meaning, "She predicted Voldemort, didn't she? I don't know, maybe she's got _some_ good to her," he rolls his eyes when he sees my disbelieving stare, "Nah, I'm not saying she she's totally legit, or whatever, just that maybe she's not entirely insane, like we used to think."_

                "Would anyone like me to help them along with their predictions?" Trelawney rustles by, her bangles seeming to jingle in a merry little melody quite contrary to her character. As expected, Parvati's and Lavander's hands shoot into the air near the front, and she's off to help her prize students.

                "I still can't believe I actually _asked_ her last year." I mutter to Ron, making a slight indication of Parvati, "She nice enough, all right, but she's virtually clueless." (A/N: No offense to Parvati fans out there, of course. That's just what I think ^_^)

                "We probably shouldn't have waited so long to speak up, you know?" he comments, chewing on his lip in concentration, "I wish this would tell me how we're going to fare with the newest one, but I can't make heads or tails of it."

                "Don't let Trelawney hear you say that." I hiss, darting my eyes to said teacher, "She'd probably say death eaters are going to invade the party and blow up the school or something."

                "If you were talking about anyone else, I'd say you were just being melodramatic, but knowing her, you're probably right. It's really a wonder she never gets tired of that," he shakes his head in amazement, then grins mischievously, "Speaking of the dance, do you have anybody in mind that you'd like to ask, mate?"

                "I thought I said I'd probably be going by myself," I reply evasively, not meeting his gaze under the pretense of copy down notes, "What, you got any ideas?"

                "Oh, no, I was talking about _you, not me. No fair answering a question with a question, you know."_

                "Turnabout's fair play, the last I checked."

                "True enough." Ron is silent for a while, and I wonder what he's thinking. He looks like he's struggling with something.

                "What's the problem?" I ask, frowning in concern, "Come on, now, spit it out."

                He hesitates for a second, then sighs in resignation, "Well, all right, but only because I _do kind of need some advice. You have to __swear that you won't tell anybody else, though."_

                I nod, putting down my quill, "Sure, whatever you say."

                Ron clears his throat in embarrassment, "There _is_ this girl I'd like to ask, but I don't think she'd say yes for the world."

                I sit back and study him for a moment, smiling, "It's Hermione, isn't it?" When he starts spluttering in an attempt to deny it, I laugh quietly, which cuts him off, "Ron, you're my best friend, and I'm not blind. I've seen the way you look at her when you think she isn't paying attention."

                His eyes widen nervously, "D'ya think _she's_ noticed, and just doesn't want to say anything?"

                "I rather doubt it." I clap him on the shoulder encouragingly, "Actually, I think she's the only one who _doesn't know, at least among your friends."_

                "Just perfect," he mutters sarcastically, crossing his arms, "It's amazing Fred and George haven't teased me about it yet."

                "I guess it is," I chuckle at the idea, raising an eyebrow at the scowl on his face, "It's not _that hopeless, you know. Do you really think she'd reject you _that_ much?"_

                Ron glances around and leans toward me, to make sure no one else would overhear, "I don't know, to tell you the truth, Harry. She's always telling me off, like at the Welcome Feast. You'd think I was just some stupid kid, from the way she acts sometimes. The thing is, she's probably right, like she is about everything else…" he drops his head down on the desk in defeat.

                I sigh to myself, wishing I could help him, "I really don't know what to tell you, Ron. Hermione might be smart and all, but she doesn't know everything, such as how you feel about her. Most likely, she thinks you see her as just some bossy bookworm, and that's it. Remember when you fought after the ball, and she'd said it'd taken you four years to notice she's a girl?" I shrug, "Maybe she's just as confused as you are, who knows?"

                A flicker of hope flares then dies almost immediately in his eyes as he sits up, thinking about this, "Why would she be confused about _me_? It's not like I'm anything special."

                I shake my head at this, laughing, "Ron, you have an inferiority complex, I think. We're going to have to do something about that…" I grin wickedly at him as the perfect idea comes to mind, "And I know just how we're going to do it, too."

                He leans away, eyeing me warily, "What are you up to?"

                "You're going to ask Hermione to the dance." I think I've cracked a rib in the effort to hold in my laughter at the look on his face. He's totally shocked, and seems to be finding it hard to talk. I don't really see why it came as that big of a surprise, but I don't mention this. I wait for a few minutes until he stops acting like a goldfish out of water before continuing, "Did you get the money you asked your mum for?"

                He gives me an odd look, "What do you _think_? Of course she didn't. I only asked her in the first place on the off chance she was able to find enough for a new set," he makes a disgusted face, "She _did send me that eyesore she'd bought me before, though. __Must she give me maroon all the time? She ought to know by now that I detest the color."_

                I nod, "I suspected as much. She probably just thinks it looks good on you, that's all. Besides, you won't have to worry about that, seeing as how my offer still stands."

                He looks away, ashamed, "As much as I'd like to ask her, Harry, I can't have you paying for it, okay?"

                I frown, wishing he'd realize I'm just trying to help, "It's not as though I mind, you know. You can pay me back, and besides, you don't want a repeat of last year, do you?"

                "Yeah, you're right…" he sighs, hanging his head, "I guess we can do things your way, then…"

                I smile slightly, knowing how much that had cost him, "All right. What about Friday? There's supposed to be a free day then," I take his silence for assent. Just in time, too, because we see Trelawney heading toward us, that tragic look she always gets when she spots me firmly in place. Wonderful...

_****_

                As we get ready for bed in the dormitory, I can tell Ron is having second, third and even fourth thoughts about the "wisdom" of agreeing to my little plan. He'd even turned down a wizard's chess challenge from Fred earlier, which made him raise his brother's brows shoot into his hair in shock. Wizard's chess, to Ron, is like Quidditch to me. When George found this out from his twin, he actually came over to feel his little brother's forehead. They'd even asked me what was going on, but of course I didn't say anything. I think they might've figured it out, anyway, because they glanced at each other knowingly after that, walking away without another word. Ron was too distracted to even notice.

                I think it's getting a bit hard for him to be around Hermione and act normally. I'd known for some time that he'd liked her, but I didn't think it had gone this far. When we were in History of Magic, after Divination, Hermione kept giving us these glances like she knew something was up, but she wasn't quite sure what. I hope she doesn't corner me, or something; I'd hate to lie to her.

                Needless to say, it'd made for a very awkward lunch today. The four of us kept avoiding each other's gazes, speaking only when absolutely necessary. I think everyone believes we're having some sort of fight. Even Malfoy put in his typically sneering comment, something like "Aw, the famous Potter and Company's fighting. What a shame." I'd have loved to have thrown it back in his face, but I didn't think that would be my greatest idea ever, so I just gritted my teeth and glared at him. Naturally, he'd laughed.

                But, as much as I'd like to pound his face into the dirt, I have more important things to worry about. Such as what I'm going to do about Ginny. I certainly know how Ron feels, even if I don't say it...

_Harry's Dream_

                I look around, confused about my surroundings for a moment in the thick fog. When it clears, I find myself standing on a small cliff overlooking a deserted yet beautiful beach, the sun setting over the water. Or nearly deserted, anyway. Two people are walking toward me, hand in hand as they chat happily with each other. The young woman swings an empty picnic basket in one hand, leaning into her companion. The guy alongside her wraps his arm contentedly around her shoulders, smiling down at her as though he doesn't have a care in the world.

                It takes a moment for me to realize that's Ginny and I. I'm watching myself, on clearly what is a date, with the girl of my dreams. (A/N: o_O ack! pun alert! lol) Is this destined to come true, as they say it is with that sort of thing? I sure hope so... With this wish, I wake up only half an hour after I'd gotten in bed. Staring up into the dark overhangings of my bed, I hope she's getting more sleep than I.

  
_~There..._

_  upon some distant shore,  
  we want for nothing more_

_  than what will be.~_

QoH: Pllllleeeaaaassseee leave me a review! ^_^ I love talkin 2 u guys!

PS: Guess what? lol We're babysittin 3 baby raccoons! (Mishka, Dasha and Moshka. My lil sis named em, which accounts 4 the "exotic" twist 2 em lol) THEY R ADORABLE! lol Loud as all hades, but the cutest little things! ^_^ Near as I can figure, they were found by themselves in a bale of hay or somethin at the farm where my mom works.


	7. Surprises

QoH: -_-' Computers r the spawn of satan, I swear. The stupid thing "write-protected" my entire disk without my authorization... I had 2 copy all my files from ffn.... *shudders* oi.... what a nightmare....

_Chapter 7: Surprises_

_Ginny's POV_

                'I must be crazy' is the one thought that keeps repeating itself as I follow Hermione in and out of the bright sunlight, amazed at the transformation in her. No longer is she the "bossy know-it-all" that Ron still teasingly calls her sometimes. Oh, all right, she's still a little bossy, dragging me here, there and everywhere excitedly. Currently, we'd just finished finding robes to wear, and she's pointing happily at another store, something like "Shoe Won't Believe It! They're Magic!" I groan at the bad joke. Where do they come up with these things, anyway? I grin and wonder what my brother would say if he could see this…

                "Hey, are you in there, Gin?" Hermione laughs, an eyebrow raised as I yank myself out of my ruminations.

                "Huh?" I blink and shake my head, trying to clear it, "Did you say something?"

                "Not that you noticed, space-girl," she pokes me jokingly, "You've been AWOL for the past five minutes."

                I look at her, confused as I shift the bag to my other hand, "Eh? What's AWOL?"

                She laughs again, "It's a muggle term, usually used in the military, but some people say it when their companion's brain seems to have taken an unexpected vacation. Literally, it means 'Absent Without Leave.'"

                "Oh," I grin sheepishly, "Sorry about that…"

                Hermione leans close and smiles knowingly, "Thinking about Harry again?"

                I blush and return the earlier poke, "No, actually, I was thinking how Ron would react if he could see you like this." I notice that she suddenly becomes very quiet when I mention him, "What's wrong?"

                She studies me for a moment before speaking slowly, as though she was hesitant to even as she does this, "I'll tell you, but please keep this a secret…" When I nod (of course), she looks at her feet, embarrassed as she whispers something so low, I have to listen intently to hear it, "I… I think… I'm in love with him…" (A/N: ^0^ hehe)

                Before I can answer, a new voice enters the conversation. "Well, well, well…" Draco Malfoy drawls as he strolls up to us, "You're 'in _love_,' Granger? Did I hear right? Now, just who would this unlucky fellow be? Perhaps I should warn him."

                I whirl to face him, my scowl fierce as I hug Hermione's shoulders bracingly, "Go dive in piranha-infested waters, ferret-boy! You can be sure it's not _you_! Therefore, it's none of your blasted _business_, you scum!"

                He gives me that trademark sneer of his as he moves threateningly closer, though he evidently doesn't like the reminder of his brief time as a furry creature bouncing around the halls for all the student body to see, "Why should I, muggle lover?"

                "You heard her," a quiet, seemingly calm voice sounds from behind me, and I turn to see Harry and Ron standing there. Harry smiles slightly as he notices my shock, then turns his pointed gaze back to the hated Slytherin, "Didn't your mother teach you manners, Malfoy? You should know it's rude to harass ladies who clearly don't want the displeasure of your company," he smiles sardonically, stepping in front of Hermione and I protectively, as does my brother, "After all, it happens often enough."

                I giggle silently at the look on Malfoy's face. It looks as though he should have steam pouring out his ears, and his face is tight with anger as he reaches for his wand, "Say that again…"

                "Yeah, yeah," Harry rolls his eyes, twirling his own in his fingers, "And you'll blast me to kingdom come. Honestly, I know this already, so it's like 'order of yawn, side of snore.' Besides, as if I'm concerned with _you_, of all people, when it comes to magic, at least," he raises an amused brow at the reaction to this obvious insult, and I think most, if not _all_, of my ribs crack as I try to hold in my laughter. My eyes dart quickly to Hermione, and she seems to have the same problem, seeing as how she looks about ready to faint from lack of oxygen. Keeping a straight face while looking at Malfoy… near impossible.

                I smile to myself as Harry basically tells him to make like a nose and blow. He's so cool and calm, facing off against that jerk, all to help us out. Watching him, I wonder what he's thinking right now. Is he just here helping Ron out, or maybe to get robes for the ball, too? Does he have a date? A million questions race through my brain, hardly stopping to let me see what they even are. One thing is for certain, though. I sure know how Hermione feels...

_~I know I've felt like this before,_

_  but now I'm feeling it even more,_

_  because it came from you.~_

                Malfoy regains his composure through what seems to be a monumental effort, bringing me back to the current conversation, "That's your own fault, then, isn't it…" he smirks again and slinks away (probably for easier prey), but throws a taunting glance over his shoulder for a moment as he does so, "Oh, and just so you know, I overheard the little Mudblood say she's 'in love' with someone." Naturally, this has the desired effect. Both Harry and Ron's jaws fall as far as humanly possible, staring after him before turning their shocked gazes to us. The silence is so complete, not even a cricket dares to chirp near us.

_****_

Harry's POV 

                You know, I was aware that Hermione had feelings for Ron, and likewise, but I didn't realize it was this intense until just this moment. I sneak a glance at Ron, and I can tell he's crushed. Despite the mask he wears to avoid awkward questions from our companions, I can practically read his mind. He's thinking it's Viktor Krum again, no doubt.

                I want to reassure him, but it wouldn't be right to do that now. Doing so would reveal what I'd sworn not to tell, and Ron would never forgive me. True, Hermione feels the same, but I know Ron wouldn't see it that way, not right now. He needs time to see that she doesn't see him like he thinks she does. I just don't know how much of that commodity he _has_. All I can do is sit by and hope for the best, I suppose. Yet, I hate seeing them like this. How can I just watch?

                My troubled thoughts are broken by Ron's faintly strained voice, "So… um, I guess congratulations are in order, then, huh?" He wheels around and walks quickly away without looking back, "I'll see you back at the castle."

                I glance at Hermione, who doesn't seem to take this well. She does an about-face, herself, and marches down the street in the opposite direction, hurt radiating from her. I shrug at Ginny; she has the same helpless look on her face I assume I do.

QoH: *does a happy victory dance* I got CoS today!!!!!! WOOHOO!!! Actually, I was comin 2 upload this, and I stopped by K-Mart on the way, and they had em! ^0^


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